


Doubts

by sarahgayle1214



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied Relationships, Religious Discussion, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 01:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahgayle1214/pseuds/sarahgayle1214
Summary: “In time, warfare consumed Cybertron, poisoning the planet to its core.Orion journeyed there, hoping to reverse the ill effects and found himself before the very Spark of our life-giver - Primus himself.The ailing Primus sensed the innate nobility within Orion and bestowed the Matrix upon him.It was thus that the surprised and humbled Orion Pax came to be Optimus, the last of the Primes.”-Ratchet, One Shall Rise Part 3“I know you have doubts - ”“Doubts? Optimus, belief in Primus is one thing, claiming to have seen him, to have talked to him - that’s something different indeed. Even to the most devout, it sounds like madness!”“I am quite sane, Ratchet.”“That’s not what I meant.”“Why do you doubt so, old friend?”





	Doubts

 

Ratchet was waiting when he arrived in medbay. It was late enough to be early, only a few joors before the start of the first shift. The medic had been rather abruptly forced from recharge by a ping from Red Alert, the Head of Security informing him that Orion Pax - Optimus Prime now, Ratchet had been informed - had returned.

Orion had left several orns prior, citing a need to journey to Cybertron’s core. Despite the protests of his senior officers - Ratchet among one of the most virulent, second only to Ironhide - he had gone, alone no less. And now he had returned, three days later, with a new frame, new designation, and the legendary Matrix of Leadership.

Hence why a very exhausted and grumpy Ratchet was now staring at a freshly minted Optimus Prime standing in the doorway of medbay at this unholy hour. Only half-aware, Ratchet scanned him, the beam washing over the broad planes of an unfamiliar frame. The hum of Ratchet’s medical scanner was the only sound in the desolate medbay, the pair studying each other carefully, afraid to break the tense silence.

“Ratchet,” Optimus stated, inclining his helm slightly in greeting, piercing cobalt optics pinning the medic in place.

Ratchet froze, vents hitching at the sudden sense of unfamiliarity, of wrongness. A voice that was too deep and commanding to have been Orion’s, optics glinting with wisdom and power, not mirth. The same rich red and blue, but on a foreign frame. He looked away sharply, unable to bear the gaze that seemed to see through to his very spark.

“Prime.” He nodded, throat suddenly constricted.

The scanner in Ratchet’s hand beeped and sparked, the medic hissing at the burst of electricity that arced through his fingers. The bleary-opticked medic growled, tossing the now smoking scanner onto the nearest berth.

“Pit-slagged scanner.” He glowered half-heartedly. “Probably shoddy wiring.”

“I expect that its combustion was a result of me rather than any subpar wiring.” Optimus stated calmly.

Ratchet said nothing, turning to open a cabinet and grab a spare, only to be stopped by a jarringly massive hand on his shoulder pauldron.

“I expect similar results will occur with any other high powered scanner as well.” Optimus continued, his sudden proximity drawing Ratchet’s attention to just how large he now was.

Orion had been taller than Ratchet by a considerable margin as well, but he had never loomed, always seeming awkward and lanky, like his own frame was too big for him. But this mech - this mech had no such air of innocence, every line of his broad frame seeming full and wide and brimming with authority.

It took Ratchet the careful withdraw of the hand on his shoulder to realize that he was leaning away slightly.

“You fear me.” Optimus declared gently, sounding stung as he took a measured step back.

“If I was frightened by something as simple as cosmetic changes, I’d be deactivated by now.” Ratchet snorted bitterly. “Just get on the berth. It seems we’ll be doing this the old-fashioned way.”

Optimus said nothing, easing onto the berth obligingly. He sat facing Ratchet, long legs dangling over the edge without the faint swing memory swore was typical. Ratchet sighed, activating the medical sensors in his hands, ghosting them mere nanometers above deep blue plating to scan the mechanisms inside. He needed updated blueprints to understand this new frame before he could even begin to ensure its proper maintenance. His hands were scanning the delicate hydraulics of Optimus’s knee before either of them spoke again.

It was Ratchet who broke the silence this time, still staring at his work as he spoke.

“I don’t fear you.”

“But you don’t trust me.”

“I don’t know you.” Ratchet replied, words more biting more than he intended.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Optimus sighed. “I am still Orion, despite what my frame and designation say.”

Ratchet ignored him in favor of his work, lip plates pursed slightly. He was at the planes of Optimus’s chassis now, almost to the central seam of his armor. He tapped the seam twice, a silent command to open.

“Open up. I need to scan your internals and ensure the frame transfer didn’t endanger your spark.”

“I can assure it did not.” Optimus declared, the faintest upward twitch of his lip plates causing Ratchet to raise an optic ridge.

“Oh, so you’re a medic now? Because there’s no way for you to make that assertion unless you are.”

Optimus had the decency to wince.

“That’s what I thought. So open up.”

“As you wish, old friend.” Optimus murmured, armor splitting open a crack

Ratchet flinched at the familiar sobriquet, but focused on the sparklight filtering through the seam, scanning the retracting mechanisms as he gently opened the plates fully.

And stopped in his tracks, vents stuttering in shock at the sight before. There, nestled innocuously against a familiar spark chamber, sat the Matrix of Leadership.

“Primus.” Ratchet ex-vented, optics wide. “I thought, well, I - ”

“You thought it was a myth.” Optimus finished, studying Ratchet’s expression carefully. “I remember, old friend. You were never shy about your opinions.”

Ratchet snorted, still captivated by the relic before him.

“I think half of Iacon knew my opinions on everything by the time I graduated med school.”

“Indeed.” Optimus rumbled, clearing his vents.

“Ah, yes, well, your spark appears in good condition from what I can see.” Ratchet began, mentally kicking himself for acting like an awe-struck sparkling.

He slowly extended a faintly trembling hand, sensors chronicling all incoming data, automatically running a spectral comparison against all known sparks. He relegated the comparison to a small corner of his HUD to focus on the exam but kept a curious watch on the results. Sensors tingling with the energy radiating from the Matrix, but thankfully not sparking, Ratchet kept his examination brief.

“No anomalous readings, no visible damage, spark chamber integrity 100%. All clear in that respect.” Ratchet announced, withdrawing his hand. “You can go ahead and close up.”

Optimus did as he was bid, armor sliding closed, Ratchet’s hands taking up positions over his left shoulder. The medic could feel the cobalt gaze scrutinizing him, could feel those sharp optics watching him with studious intensity. Huffing a small sigh, Ratchet raised his helm to meet Optimus’s optics.

“Is there something you’d like to say?”

“Why do you fear me?”

“I already told you, I’m not afraid.”

“I am no different than I was.”

“I’m not -

“Do not lie to me, Ratchet. We both know you will not succeed.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Ratchet barked. “Of course I’m afraid! Orion Pax left three days ago and never came back. Instead you, Optimus fragging Prime, come wandering in at some unholy joor of the night with a new frame and a fragging myth against your spark and expect me to act like everything’s the same?”

“The Matrix is no myth.”

“I can see that!” Ratchet growled, gesticulating widely. “It still doesn’t explain how you got it or where or why the Pit you’re practically a fragging warframe or-”

The spark comparison chose that moment to complete, the results flashing in the corner of his HUD.

_Spark Spectra 1.005.789.003, Amp 106, 203, 409 Hz, Wvl 56, 78, 92 nm, identID: Orion Pax_

Ratchet’s vents stalled, vocalizer shutting off with a click. How? Yes, he technically knew how, frame transfers weren’t uncommon, especially now, but for this mech to be Orion? Gentle, peaceful, archivist Orion - a warframe? And with the Matrix?

Ratchet deflated, running one hand over his faceplate, optics flickering as he took a step back.

“Primus. I don’t understand, Orion. I just don’t understand. What happened to you?”

“I journeyed to the core of our planet in hopes of finding a cure for the taint Megatron’s actions have caused, but instead, I found Primus himself.” Optimus ex-vented sorrowfully, gaze softening with remembered pain. “He is ailing, deeply grieved by our current conflict and the horrors his children are inflicting upon each other. The abominations of Cybonic Plague and Tox-En sicken him, Ratchet. He entrusted me with the Matrix and a charge to bring peace to all his children, Autobot and Decepticon alike. He gave me this frame and title to better serve him and accomplish the mission he demands.”

“Primus.” Even Ratchet himself could not have said if it was a statement of disbelief, an explicative of awe or a demand for an explanation.

“Indeed.”

“But Optimus, I-”

“I know what you believe, old friend.”

“Optimus, Primus? I know have always been more open to matters of faith than I, but to say you saw Primus? To claim to have seen a deity, an entity that has existed longer than our species? To stand there before me and declare you stood in the presence of Primus himself?”

“I know you have doubts - ”

“Doubts? Optimus, belief in Primus is one thing, claiming to have seen him, to have talked to him - that’s something different indeed. Even to the most devout, it sounds like madness!” Ratchet threw his hands up, pacing absently.

“I am quite sane, Ratchet.” Optimus stated patiently.

“That’s not what I meant.” The medic sighed testily.

“Why do you doubt so, old friend?”

“I’m a medic, Optimus. A scientist. My world is based on what I can prove to be real. To believe in something I have no proof of, that I cannot see nor hear nor touch, such belief goes against my very programming. I simply cannot, Optimus. I simply cannot do anything but doubt.”

“And do you not think the creator of your very spark knows this?”

“W-What?”

“Your spark was drawn from the Well, yes?”

“Of course, as all of the medical caste.”

“And where do sparks from the Well come from?”

“The Allspark. Optimus, why do you - you know this - ”

“Where do you think the Allspark came from?”

“Well, current theories… do mean to tell me - ?”

“Do no fear, Ratchet. I would not expect your opinions to be so easily swayed. You would not be the mech I know and trust if they were. I would not demand a faith you are unable to give.” Optimus rose, a massive black plated hand resting gently on an orange shoulder pauldron.

“I - thank you.” Ratchet stammered, uncharacteristically lost for words.

“Recharge well, old friend.” Optimus rumbled, his deep baritone already growing familiar, turning towards the doorway.

“But, the scan, I - ”

“I believe you will find you have everything you need.” He replied mysteriously, a trace of familiar mirth softening piercing cobalt optics. “Rest now, old friend.”

And with that, he was gone, Ratchet left staring at the empty doorway. Rubbing his helm absently, he resolved to go recharge and reevaluate in the morning. He was surprisingly shaken and confused after the events of this night, far more so than he considered appropriate. Shutting off the lights, he shook his helm and headed for his waiting berth.

Around the corner, the Matrix hummed its approval against the spark of Orion Pax and Optimus Prime smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I have always been intrigued by the idea of Ratchet as an atheist or agnostic and how that would affect his relationship to Optimus, especially since being Prime makes him the spiritual leader of Cybertron - a position portrayed as either the High Priest or the vessel of Primus. After rewatching Transformers: Prime, this little oneshot was born. Constructive criticism is always welcome, especially since this is my first posted fanfiction. Thanks for reading!


End file.
